


Say My Name

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Biting, Blood Play, Bondage, M/M, Passing and Vague Mention of Past Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 16:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11901663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: Summary:Ratchet's usually the one in charge when they play like this, but every now and then Drift drags out Deadlock to play.  Just to switch things up.





	Say My Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlimReaper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimReaper/gifts).



> **'Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Drift/Ratchet  
>  **Warnings:** Bondage, BDSM, Biting, LEETLE bit of Blood Play, Sticky, passing and vague mention of historical non-con  
>  **Notes:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IOPELE!!!!! I took a prompty prompt you gave me, and then some jabbering we did on skype, mashed their naughty bits together, and I made you this ficcy. 8D

Ratchet usually took the role of dominant when they played like this. He was _good_ at it, had more experience, and he was certainly more confident than Drift. Drift also _thoroughly_ enjoyed getting to submit without it being forced or feeling the fear he had become accustomed to during his life as a Decepticon. That trust was a heady thing. Knowing he could have the pain he craved with the pleasure he wanted without worrying about it getting around and turned against him was... soothing. There was freedom in the cuffs and ropes and bindings Ratchet would use on Drift. There was a soaring elation in handing over all control to someone else who truly wouldn't _harm_ him and say Drift really wanted it when he hadn't.

So on the rare occasions Ratchet came to Drift and laid the sleek rope into his lap and knelt, Drift could do nothing but return the gift of that freedom.

And Ratchet was damn pretty bound up in that rope, arms tied at the wrists and drawn up over his head, his optics cobalt and lips parted as he panted heavily in need. He liked Drift being rough. He _enjoyed_ the carefully leashed violence Drift would display. This, Drift realized, was still Ratchet freeing him, and he stepped around behind his bound lover to lean in and brush a soft kiss against his neck.

"Who am I?" Drift whispered and lightly sucked at the heated cabling against his lips.

"Deadlock," Ratchet gasped, helm tipping to bare his neck more.

"Deadlock doesn't listen when a mech begs him to stop," Drift crooned, mouth still soft and loving.

"Megatron would make him," Ratchet replied.

And wasn't that the truth? Nothing could kill Drift's arousal faster than mention of his former commander. One day, it might even be funny to inform the tyrant that his name was a frelling safe word, but those were thoughts for future Drift.

The shift wasn't as difficult as it once had been, and when Drift spoke, he let go of the carefully practiced speech patterns he had cultivated to distance himself from his past. His voice growled low into Ratchet's audial, "No one can save you from me."

Ratchet's plating chimed with a hard shiver and his respiration sped up more.

"Ya're too easy," Drift said as he stepped back to admire Ratchet before slowly pacing around where he could be seen. "Where do I wanna start?" Actually, he was missing something.

Drift grinned to hear Ratchet whimper as he suddenly spun and strode away, all the way across the lounge and into the berthroom where they kept all their toys. Everything but this one piece had already been laid out and agreed upon, and Drift would be sure Ratchet wanted it before attaching the spreader bar to his ankles.

That consent was given with a hungry whine the moment Drift returned to the lounge with the bar in his hands.

"Can't have ya tryin' ta hide from me now, can I?" Drift asked as he knelt at Ratchet's feet and smirked up at him. Bad, Ratchet, he thought and almost laughed as his lover didn't even pretend to fight as Drift locked one side around the first ankle. Didn't he want it rough? Drift glanced up as he locked the second cuff and grinned enough to bare one sharp fang.

Ratchet's vents hitched and the light sound of locks disengaging reached Drift's audials. Chances were, Drift wouldn't have heard it over Ratchet's vents if his helm wasn't so close to his array- which Drift was happy to use against the mech. He grinned fully, both sharp fangs on display before he tipped his helm down and inward to scrape his teeth along Ratchet's inner thigh.

"Frag!" Ratchet gasped as his panel snapped back to expose his array.

Drift inhaled, taking in the thick, sweet scent of lubricant before _biting_ down on Ratchet's thigh. One fang slipped into a seam and pierced the line he had aimed for, and Ratchet shouted, whole frame jerking. Drift knew what that felt like, had tested his teeth on himself to be sure of just how hard he needed to bite to puncture a line without causing too much damage. Above him, Ratchet shuddered, vents heaving, and Drift eased back to lick the energon blood from the tiny wound he had made.

"Way too easy," Drift growled and licked a long line right up that same transformation seam. "Mech could think ya like this sorta thing."

"So?" Ratchet shivered hard under Drift's hands as they pushed up over his knees and continued on up the fronts of his thighs.

Drift grinned at the bravado, letting himself slip a little more into the role. Were Ratchet his prisoner, were he truly still Deadlock...

"Guess ya won't mind a bit more then." Drift leaned in biting and licking, having to mute a hungry moan as he tasted lubricant.

"Not sure... nngh... how you cleaning my clock is... is supposed to be frightening," Ratchet said, voice strained and hitched as he rocked his hips forward.

Drift tightened his hold to keep Ratchet from the firmer contact he sought and chuckled, letting the sound vibrate over his array. "Sharp as my teeth are? Not worried even a little?" To punctuate the question, Drift angled his head and dragged said teeth over the surface of Ratchet's array, even allowing one fang to catch on the rim of the spike housing. Ratchet whimpered and his spike began to pressurize. Drift chuckled again and delicately bit at the tip before rocking back on his heels and standing. One finger tipped up Ratchet's chin so Drift could give him a biting kiss.

"Do ya like ta bleed, medic? That why ya aren't scared of me?" Drift crooned and stroked his finger along Ratchet's jaw. "I can make ya bleed. Can make ya scream too."

"Not afraid of you," Ratchet said in a growl of his own.

Drift smirked and dragged a carefully sharpened -usually retracted- claw down the side of Ratchet's neck, right along his main energon line. "Maybe ya should be?" Though there was nothing of fear in Ratchet's field as he shivered and met Drift's optics. "Or maybe not..." he purred as he stepped to the side and let his hand glide down to skirt the very edge of Ratchet's array.

Ratchet bucked forward with a gasp before voicing a disappointed whine. Drift grinned once he was out of Ratchet's line of sight. Wasn't he supposed to be the bad, dangerous Decepticon killer? Shouldn't Ratchet be pretending to be afraid? Drift bit his lip against a laugh and figured they were both bad at this game. He could still give his lover what he wanted though.

Drift pushed a knee between Ratchet's thighs and leaned in to bite his neck again. "Gonna make you beg," he growled as he pressed full length against Ratchet's back. His hips rocked forward beyond his control, and Drift clenched his jaw against the urge to retract his panel. A tingling pleasure spread out from Drift's array, and Ratchet pushed into the contact, back arching.

"You're really bad at this prisoner thing," Drift said and bit Ratchet's neck again, hard enough to almost puncture the line. "Might as well just ask me ta frag ya."

"Frag yourself."

"Maybe I will if you aren't enough." Drift let his panel retract and his spike pushed out eagerly. He rocked against Ratchet's aft, a shudder of pleasure rippling through his whole body. "Would you like that, medic? Watching me pleasure myself? No," Drift purred and let his lips brush along the back of Ratchet's neck as he moved to the other side to lick a flat audial disc. "No, you'd hate it, wouldn't you?" Drift nipped at Ratchet's audial before pulling away and stepping back around in front of him. One hand slid down to grip his spike, and Drift stepped back a few paces to be sure Ratchet had a good view.

Cobalt optics flared, and Drift smirked as he dragged his palm up the underside of his spike, hand open, setting it on display. "Yeah, ya want it, doncha?" he asked, remembering to speak _im_ properly. Fingers curled around his spike, and Drift pulled back down, doing his best to ignore the hot rush of need through his lines as he met Ratchet's optics with his own and grinned. "Com'on, medic. All ya gotta do is ask nice. Autobots are good at bein' nice, right?"

Ratchet's mouth worked, but the only sound was a thin whine of need. Drift stepped closer and gave his spike another pull.

"Too bad your mouth's way up there. Betcha'd like a taste, huh?" Drift laughed as Ratchet licked his lips.

"Drift..." Ratchet whispered, startling them both.

Drift froze a moment then, in a fit of inspiration, lashed out. His palm cracked loudly against Ratchet's face. "What did you call me?!" he snarled, other hand gripping Ratchet's chin to jerk his face back around. He held the scowl, glaring into Ratchet's optics, but his field desperately searched the medic's.

There was surprise, but Drift needn't have worried about pushing too far. Lust coiled around him from Ratchet, the air filled with the rush of straining vents.

"Deadlock," Ratchet gasped, optics wide and heat rolling off his frame.

Drift took that last step separating their bodies and pressed his chest to Ratchet's. "Again," he growled and bit Ratchet's lower lip while sliding his spike against a slick, _hot_ array.

"Deadlock!"

"Don't forget it." Drift rolled his hips, pleasure humming through him as his spike glided over Ratchet's array, though he was careful to keep Ratchet from capturing him with his valve. And Primus, how the medic tried! Ratchet whimpered and keened, hips canting and rocking as he pulled against the rope and raised up on the tips of his feet, all in a futile effort to get what Drift wasn't going to give him.

Yet.

It took a Pit of an effort, but Drift stepped back and away from Ratchet and reached for his own spike again. He kept his touch light for fear of losing control, especially since Ratchet seemed to be well beyond control now himself.

"Please," Ratchet whimpered, hips arched forward and lubricant running in pale lines down the insides of shaking white thighs.

"What was that?" Drift asked and gave himself another slow stroke. "Didn't hear ya."

"Please!" Ratchet cried, optics blazing darkest blue and taking on a wet shine.

Drift almost caved then and there, and he did step forward before catching himself. "Please what?" It was almost cruel, and his voice had softened despite his efforts to play up the role.

"Spike me," Ratchet pleaded over what sounded damn close to a sob. "Please? _Please_?"

"See?" Drift purred as he stepped in close. He _could_ drag it out more, but that felt too mean. "That so hard ta do?" he asked, and his lips brushed Ratchet's cheek as he swayed in against Drift, but Drift sidestepped before temptation could grip him too tightly. He wanted the intimacy, but Ratchet wanted it hard. Drift would get what he wanted after he made the medic scream himself hoarse.

Drift captured Ratchet's hips and pressed full length against his back. "Once more, medic. Make me believe ya want it."

Ratchet arched his back, aft pushing against Drift's pelvis. "Please, Deadlock... frag me. Please."

And how could Drift possibly resist that? He gripped Ratchet's hips tighter and pulled back, angling himself to push his spike along the array in a blind search of Ratchet's valve. The tip caught lightly against the valve's rim on Drift's second thrust, and he pushed in nice and slow. Heat washed up and over Drift as Ratchet wailed and clenched tight around him. It was all Drift could do not to drive himself deep and fast, but then this would be over in seconds.

" _Please_! Deadlock!"

Primus save him, Drift thought and rocked his hips back before plunging in hard. He did it again. Then again. Plating rung from the impacts, and Drift shuddered from the heat and need and perfect ripple-squeeze along his spike. Ignore it all he liked, but the tension was building, and hearing Ratchet beg and cry in broken, desperate words only stole away more of Drift's control.

"Com'on. Gimme that scream," Drift said in a growl then bit a line along Ratchet's shoulder to his neck.

Ratchet snapped a curse as sharp fangs scraped over his main line, his hands clung to the rope and his back arched more. Drift shut his optics and wound his arms around Ratchet's waist, using the new leverage to drive them on harder. It only took a couple of thrusts before Ratchet locked up, body tense and shaking before a sharp scream was torn from his vocalizer. Drift let go of his thread-bare control and allowed his body to take over. He pounded into Ratchet, bit down on the line under his teeth until he tasted blood, and gave himself over to the savage ecstasy of release.

"-t? Drift?"

Drift groaned, the loud rush slowly ebbing from his audials. His arms were still locked tight around Ratchet's middle, his spike buried deep in the quivering valve. "Here. Ok?"

"Wrists," Ratchet answered, voice rasping.

Drift set his feet and reached up to pull the quick release - not the wisest move, as neither of them had functioning legs. They clattered to the floor, and Drift hissed as his spike pulled from Ratchet, but more, he was worried about his lover. Ratchet had gasped as he landed _under_ Drift.

Before Drift could engage his vocalizer, Ratchet snickered, then laughed. He lay under Drift, body quaking as he all but cackled, and Drift ended up chuckling too.

"Are you alright?" Drift asked and managed to drag himself to the side a bit.

"Yeah." Ratchet giggled as he rolled to his side, the spreader bar still holding his legs wide. "Yeah. That was great."

"Right up until the falling down part." Drift heaved himself up and reached for the cuffs around Ratchet's ankles.

"Eh... that too." Ratchet flopped to his back, array bared and shiny-wet and right there on display. By the grin Drift was given, his attention had been noted. "I'm too tired to clean myself up though." A pause. "Deadlock."

Drift snorted. "Then be sticky, medic." The bar was tossed aside, and Drift settled himself beside Ratchet. "Seriously. I didn't hurt you?" There was still a smear of blood on Ratchet's neck, though the small puncture seemed to have closed over already.

"I'm fine," Ratchet replied, one hand going to Drift's helm to stroke over it and play with a finial. "Really, that was great. Thank you."

Drift returned the soft smile aimed at him. "Good," he said and snuggled in close, ignoring the heat pouring off their frames in favor of that intimacy he wanted. A low purr rumbled up as Ratchet wrapped his arms around him, and Drift wriggled closer. They would have to get off the floor eventually. Shower, clean their toys, but for now he was content to burrow into Ratchet and enjoy the moment.


End file.
